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Excerpts from Souvenir Submitted by David M. Waid |
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1889.
April 2, 1889--[On this day I wrote "Some thoughts
before leaving home," which will be found at page
105.]
April 4, 1889--On the evening of this day I had the pleasure of
attending the wedding of my esteemed friends, Wallace
Mook and Luella Floyd, at the home of
her parents, Mr. and Mrs. George Floyd, in
Saegerstown, Penn.
April 10 to July 24, 1889--[Here comes my second trip to Kansas,
along, in part, with my son, Franklin, an
account of which will be found at page 109.]
August 23 to September 4, 1889--[My wife, Anna,
and I visit Jamestown and Chautauqua, N. Y., and the reader is referred to
page 144: for an account of
same.]
September 8, 1889--To-day my wife and I attended church, and
afterward brought the pastor and Mr. McCool,
of Meadville, home with us to dine.
September 12, 1889--This is the sixtieth anniversary of Aunt
Matilda J. Cutshall's birthday, and my wife and I formed a part of
a pleasant gathering at her home. I
gave my sister-in-law, and other relatives and friends, our photograph.
The following account of the interesting event is from the
Pennsylvania Farmer:
At the pleasant farm house of G. W. Cutshall,
Randolph Township, Crawford County, Penn., was celebrated the sixtieth
birthday of Matilda J. Cutshall, his wife,
who was born in Luzerne County, Penn., September 12, 1829, and married
September 17, 1858. So in
five days more she might have celebrated her wedding anniversary.
F. C. Waid thinks of this as he
remembers that his fiftieth birth-day and twenty-ninth wedding
anniversary, held April 23, 1888, were celebrated in one.
P. M. Cutshall delivered an
appropriate address, in a brief but happy manner, after which F.
C. Waid expressed his pleasure in being present, and entertained
the company substantially as follows:
"About thirty-seven years ago, before Mr.
Cutshall and Matilda J. Masiker were married, and I know it was
before Eliza C. Masiker and myself were
married, we were all at the Jacob Masiker farm,
where we walked up the lane and through the orchard, till we came to where
the ripe, rosy, luscious peaches attracted out attention.
It is needless to say that excellent peaches, handsome girls and
happiness made the time a happy one.
This was the beginning of better days to us.
Life is a success when we win and hold the friendship formed in
youth. The golden chain grows
brighter as the brief years go by, and we are here to-day to celebrate the
sixtieth birth-day of one worthy of our esteem, one who has, thus far in
life, bestowed much true friendship, generosity and kindness upon her
numerous acquaintances. We
who are here to-day, and share the pleasures and blessings of this happy
home, are only a few of those who rise up and call her blessed.
Do you know this good work has been going on forty years?
See what there is in friendship. This
child, little Leon, spoke it in his act, when he, at the age of five
years, picked berries, earned a dime, and made his grandma a present.
Such a boy will make his mark in the world. It looks noble, self-supporting, to rely on his own efforts
instead of others. It is none
of your cheap generosity. Landing
over to a friend what costs you nothing; certainly it is far better than
cheap giving. The world is
waiting for such children to grow up and fill useful occupations in life.
There was one born sixty years ago to-day, whose presence has
cheered and her hands helped humanity ever since.
The Lord Master said, She has done what she could, and the words
apply in this case. May her
life be spared many years until the good Master calls her home."
Mr. Cutshall responded to calls, and made some spicy remarks, after
which Mr. Waid addressed a few commendatory words to the generous host,
which all present echoed.
Presents were given, and Mr. Waid had the pleasure of introducing
his accomplished wife to the many new friends, and a goodly number of
photographs of the worthy couple were carried away by friends.
September 14, 1889--After transacting some business in Meadville
Anna and I drove to the home of my cousin, Robert A.
Fergerson. This was a
visit long looked forward to by us with all the pleasures of anticipation.
We will spend the Sabbath day here, a privilege that in years past
I have more than once enjoyed.
Sunday September 15--We drove this fine morning to the Lutheran
Church, and arrived in time for both sermon and Sunday-school.
At the conclusion of the service we visited Watson's Run Cemetery
on the hillside near the church. It
consists of about four acres of ground, has large shade trees within its
bounds, and is handsomely decorated with neatly trimmed evergreens. After dinner we called upon John
Morehead, and found him and his family at home.
September 16, 1889--This morning we paid a visit to Uncle Robert
Morehead, at whose house we dined.
While there Lydia gave me two copper buttons from the coat of
Grandfather Morehead, who came to America about 100 years ago when a young
man. I picked up a shoe
hammer during this call, and Uncle Robert told me that it had driven the
pegs into my mother's wedding shoes. The hammer and buttons brought a flood of recollections upon
me as I sat there talking with my dear mother's brother. It takes but a small thing in this world to let loose the
current of one's thoughts. My
uncle told me that he had made the shoes, and he related also many tales
of the olden times. I love
dearly to hear anything in connection with my sainted mother, whose
Christian life made home so happy, and for aught I know led me to Christ.
I cannot remember a more really pleasurable morning than that spent
at Uncle Robert's, filled as it was with memories of those that "I
have loved long since, and lost awhile."
September 24--My wife, Anna, and I started for Mosiertown to-day,
and while on our way we stopped at Saegerstown to call upon George
Floyd, S. Slocum and C. R. Slocum.
When we arrived at Mosiertown I drove at once to the home of my
old-time friend and companion, C. R. Slocum,
and to him and his family I introduced Anna, who now saw them for the
first time. In the evening we
made calls upon friends in the immediate neighborhood.
September 25--To-day Anna and I called upon
Mrs. Caroline Cochran, Mr. Slocum's only sister, and afterward
drove to the home of Robert E. Slocum where we dined in company with Mrs.
Cochran and Miss Mattie Slocum. After dinner we walked to the Baptist Church, which was
undergoing repairs, and there we found the minister working upon the
building. He was a carpenter
by trade, and had no false pride that prevented his working at his trade,
which was thus made honorable above all others by being the calling of the
Gentle Nazarene.
September 27, 1889--A visit to Orlando Waid,
who lives on Harrison Sutton's farm east of Townville, marked this date.
We remained there for the night.
On our way home from Orlando's farm on the following day we stopped
at Pember Phillip's place.
Mr. Phillips has been repairing and improving his house, and it now
presents an exterior of which he may be proud.
Leaving there we drove to the residence of Silas
Clarke, who lives upon the State Road about five miles from our
home. His wife has been ill
for months, and it was partly to inquire after her that we called.
Susan Hobbs died to-day, aged over
seventy years.
October 8 to November 4--[My wife and I pay a protracted visit to
her old home in Kansas (my third trip to that State, I returning East on
the latter date, my wife remaining with her parents), for particulars of
which I refer the reader to page 148.]
On November 4, the narrative of my third trip to Kansas was
concluded at page 162, and from that point I resume my diary.
As I have said I had an hour to wait in Ottawa for the train to
arrive at the Santa Fe depot, and I now sit writing where I can view
Forest Park, only one square from the railway station.
I love once more to view the place where I spent so many pleasant
hours during the Chautauqua Assembly, last June--happy days!
Before leaving Ottawa I called at Mr. Cowdery's
store to inquire after Mrs. Cowdery's health,
and was informed by the clerk that "she is a little better, but
cannot live long" (Mrs. Cowdery died a few days afterward, November
12, 1889.--F. C. Waid).
My train is expected soon, so I will close my notes in the
meantime, and bid good-by to Ottawa, hoping to return in the near future.
On the platform just as I took my train East I met Rev. Mr. Boaz,
whose presence cheered me as I was leaving Ottawa.
There is something in man's countenance that cheers his friend,
like the spark of electricity, a glance sends happiness that thrills our
whole being.
I believe that on this trip to Kansas I have found more attractions
there than ever, even when Anna and I left here last July 15.
At that time her parents and kindred, left behind, were to be
thought of; but I had this comforting thought--Anna was with me.
But now, to have to leave her behind, and travel homeward alone, is
to me the most unpleasant reflection of all.
And when I think of her impaired health, I shall want to hear often
from her, and return to Kansas as soon as I can.
Such is life! My train has now arrived, and I find myself speeding along
eastward as fast as steam-power can take me, passing many beautiful and
interesting places between Ottawa and Kansas City, among them being Olathe
Cemetery, twenty-four miles from the latter place, where I arrived about 6
P. M. At Kansas City I find I
have two hours to wait and enjoy my lunch (put up for me by Anna, and
which I had brought with me) while waiting for the train, and as I
afterward walk about the streets, I was jostled hither and thither by the
busy multitude that throngs the throughfares.
A gentleman from Ohio made a remark, as our train was coming into
the city, about the size of the mountains.
"Yes," I replied, "the bluffs are high in Kansas
City, they remind me of Oildom, in Pennsylvania."
I arrived at St. Louis Tuesday morning, and left soon after for
Cincinnati. I wish time
permitted me to visit my cousin, Steven Whicher,
at Mount Vernon, Jefferson County, Ill., but if I did I would miss
connection for Cincinnati in the evening.
Tuesday November 5, 1889--Election day, at home and abroad. I write this in St. Louis, where I wish I could spend a day
or so, as the city is very interesting to me.
On our way I noticed a marked improvement in the crops since last I
saw them, especially in the wheat; indeed I was surprised at the marked
advance made. We pass through
Carlyle and Salem, Ill., Vincennes and North Vernon, Ind., and finally
reach Cincinnati in the evening of November 5, and on the following day I
found myself once more "on my native heath," where I received a
most pleasant and happy greeting from kindred and friends.
I had been absent only four weeks, and yet the many changes that
had taken place in a measure startled me, when I came to hear of them.
Births, marriages, deaths and loss of property by fire or
otherwise, all these militate to bring about the changes and chances of
this mortal life: "Change and decay in all around
I see; O Thou, who changest not, abide with
me."
In speaking of destruction of property by fire, I here more
especially refer to the burning of G. W. Cutshall's
old farm-house in Randolph Township, Crawford County, which was totally
consumed by fire on Wednesday, October 30, 1889.
The homes of our fathers, the dwelling places or abodes of men, our
own homes, all pass away. If
they do not disappear by fire or earthquake, or are swept away by floods
or cyclones, they return to earth with time, and pass away.
Men often leave their homes, but their homes sometimes leave them. We are here together on earth but a little while at longest,
yet our homes, our houses, our abodes, the places where we live have great
attractions for us, and this farm-house on my brother-in-law's farm is one
long to be remembered. Many
families have lived in it in its day including G. W.
Cutshall's father, George Cutshall and
others. But I am not disposed
to give in detail here the names of all who have lived here; nor at
present could I, even if I so wished.
But I do want to say a little of the proverbial hospitality that
was ever found at this old farm-house.
The generosity of the men and women who have inhabited it is well
known, not only in this community, but also throughout the whole county,
and even beyond its limits. Here
the hungry have been fed, here the weary have found rest, and here many
have been encouraged and strengthened in the battle of life; in which
connection I take a pardonable pride in saying that
Mrs. Jane Cutshall is sister to Eliza,
my first wife.
A man's heart deviseth his way, and the Lord directeth his steps. To-day, November 8, I walked over to Mr. Cutshall's to pour
out my sympathy with him and his family in their trouble. We know our friends in prosperity, but we appreciate them in
adversity, when misfortune comes, and we can then counsel, and speak
comfort to their grief. The
old house that was burnt was built in 1853, thirty-six years ago, and it
was fortunate for Mr. Cutshall and his family that his spring house, which
was built later, and is commodious and conveniently located near the old
one, has escaped the fire untouched.
It is a two-story slate-roofed building 16x20, and is now their
dwelling. A true friend
loveth at all times; and I do not forget the occasion of my
sister-in-law's (Matilda Jane Cutshall)
birthday party, September 12, 1889, which Anna and I attended.
I gave her (Mrs. Cutshall), at that time, our photographs with the
promise that some time in the future I would remember her with some token
of our esteem. I have been
waiting for an opportunity all along, and now it has in an unexpected
manner arrived. I believe in
gifts, but always in bestowing them when and where they will do the most
good. We should study how, what, when and where to give, as well as
to whom, if we would fulfill the Divine law, and have our gifts
appreciated by the receiver. Imagine,
if you can, my dear reader, the pleasure that came to each of us when I
wrote out and handed Matilda Jane Cutshall my
check for $100. Of course I
had talked this over with husband and wife, and a full understanding was
arrived at between us. I have
had the pleasure of being with the family over night, and they tell me it
is like beginning the world again, so many things were destroyed; indeed
only those who have experienced being "burnt out," can
appreciate the condition of things. Our
real friends come to comfort us in the darkest hours of life.
I know what that is, and if I should be asked why I am at Mr.
Cutshall's place to-day, I could give no better reason than this--It is
the Lord's will. Then, let me
add, the greatest loss on earth is husband or wife by death; and he who
pens these lines wishes to tell you, dear reader, that at the close of the
services on the occasion of the funeral of my beloved wife, Eliza,
at Blooming Valley Cemetery, on July 5, 1888, when I turned from
the grave and left behind me all that was dear to me on earth, George
and Matilda Jane Cutshall, with other friends and relatives,
accompanied me to my desolate home, and stayed with me overnight.
I never shall forget it. Is
not that sufficient reason why I am here to-night?
I am also well rewarded by meeting Mr. T.
Davis, a friend, who lives near Waterford, Erie Co., Penn., and
who, with his wife, was present at Mr. Cutshall's fiftieth birthday party
[It will be seven years ago December 31, 1889].
Mrs. Davis has died since that time.
Mr. Davis told me about Matthew Smith's family, of whom I was much
pleased to hear, as I was well acquainted with them, having boarded with
them when C. R. Slocum, and E. T. Wheeler and
myself attended school at Waterford Academy.
There were five children in the family--three daughters, Elizabeth,
Jane and Katie, and two sons, Wilson and
Hunter. The children
are all living, but the parents are deceased.
November 11, 1889--I sit down to write a few more lines about my
Third Trip to Kansas, but I have just about commenced the pleasant duty
when along comes our assessor, with whom I have to do business.
He leaves a notice of assessment including money out at interest,
$40,000; total in Woodcock Township, Crawford Co., Penn., $45,880. In this life we have something to do. If we have nothing we want to get something; then when we get
it we have something to do to take care of it.
It is all right to double our talents, and serve the Lord with
whatever he may give us. I
may sometimes forget; but whatever I may do I always wish to remember the
Lord. You know what is
written in the Bible: Remember
now thy Creator in the days of thy youth.
Oh, how good that was for me; but it is better now.
The Lord has taught me much since.
I verily believe his word: Behold
the righteous are rewarded in the earth much more than the wicked and the
sinner.
But in referring back briefly to "My Third Trip to
Kansas," I will put a few thoughts connected therewith in writing.
The lips of the wise feed many, but fools die for want of wisdom.
How much my heart seeketh after this true wisdom!
And however much I may have learned from others, or by my own
experience, I want the Lord, like the potter who shapes the clay, to
direct my steps day by day. Our planning without His approval is in vain.
"Man proposes, but God disposes."
But when we can say: "Thy
will be done," then all will be well.
The Lord's Prayer is the Key to man's whole life--it unlocks the
hidden mysteries of earth and heaven to the true disciple of Christ.
It is the secret to success, and no Christian can get along without
it. And that is why my wife
and I knelt down and prayed in secret, imploring Divine aid and blessing
before starting off on our trip to Kansas, the burden of our prayer being
"bless those, O Lord, whom we leave behind, and our kindred
everywhere; and remember us O Lord who are about to depart on this
journey. Grant us a safe
journey, and may we be permitted to return in health to our home."
And as Anna lifted up her voice in earnest faith, I was reminded of
another prayer I once heard many years ago, when my father, Ira
C. Waid, was wrestling with the spirit in secret and alone.
He was in such strong earnestness, and so loud in his invocations,
that I could hear him many rods off. Well,
as I have said, my wife and I prayed for health and strength, a safe
journey and a return home in health.
Many thoughts and perplexities about this journey made our burden
heavy, but how easy it became when we remembered the word of the Lord:
Cast thy burden on the Lord, he will sustain thee.
That is why we prayed. We
looked unto Him, and our fears were lightened.
Smiles and help came, and we started on our journey with glad
hearts. On our way Anna
and I had plenty of opportunity to talk over past incidents in our
lives--from our first meeting on the train, already narrated, down to the
present time. All the
promises conveyed in the Bible are not confined to the future life; very
many of them come direct to us as help here, that we may have the promise
of this life, and that which is to come--eternal life.
And when God cheers our heart, it is cheered Sot good.
And I wish to say that I am trying to appreciate His precious
gifts, not only the gift of His Son, but other gifts that call for praise
and gratitude. When I read in
His Word: Every good and
perfect gift cometh from Him with whom there is no variableness or shadow
of turning, my heart has a desire to praise and honor him.
What did the wise man mean when he said:
Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favor of
the Lord? Now it is a wife I
am to be thankful for; and I wish to say here that no man knows the value
of a true Christian wife better than I do, nor the loss of such an one, as
I do. Having had both these
blessed and sad experiences in my life, is it any wonder I should now be
so thankful to my Heavenly Father for a wife--"God's first gift to
man."
I have written elsewhere in this volume about my wife, Anna,
asking me to return thanks at her father's table October 10, 1889, which
was her first request. But I
wish to relate to the reader when and where it was that Anna first heard
me give thanks. It was at
Aunt Abbie's, Monroe Centre, Ogle Co., Ill., on July 17, 1889.
I shall always remember Aunt Abbie, who, when supper was ready, and
we had sat down, asked me to give thanks.
Now I fear that even the most patient reader will think I am
dwelling too long on my third trip to Kansas, but I crave indulgence and
permission to say how it was that I came home alone, leaving my wife with
her parents. We had intended when we left home to return within thirty
days, and our excursion tickets were to that effect "good for thirty
days." But on our
arrival at Mr. Tyler's, Anna had a bad cold and cough from which she did
not entirely recover while we were there.
So on account of her impaired health and the pressing request of
her parents and the family (as already remarked), it was judged better for
her to spend the winter in Kansas, whither I expect to return as soon as
business may permit, and there I hope to spend part of the winter, with
our aged parents.
Since my return to my Pennsylvania home (for I speak now as having
a home in Kansas as well as in the East), I have received and read the
first letter Anna, as Mrs. Francis C. Waid,
ever wrote me, and much do I appreciate it. It is dated November 10, 1889.
She and I had a good deal of correspondence between the years 1881
and 1888 (October 10), some sixteen letters or thereby, on either side,
and Anna has them all with her in Kansas.
She tells me there was a time when we did not correspond (for
friends in this regard are often neglectful) for, perhaps, more than a
year (Anna has told me that when this dropping off in our correspondence
took place, her mother said that she (Anna) would never hear from me
again, and that she then destroyed all my letters to that date.--F.
C. Waid). Then when my
first SOUVENIR came out, I naturally thought of my friends, including the Tyler
family, and among others sent Anna a copy, which renewed our friendship.
I wrote her before our marriage, I think, about fifty-five letters,
Anna's to me being a few less, probably about fifty.
These letters I regard as a part of real life, written in faith
with a pure motive and with the best of intentions.
It is true the sound wheat in them is naturally not without some
leaven of chaff, but it is the good contained in them I so fondly cherish,
and for that reason only I here make mention of them en passant in my
SOUVENIR.
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